My Life as a Roamer
by albinopolarbear
Summary: Being a roamer is harder that you'd think. Especially when there are bandits around.
1. My Life

My Life as a Roamer

Chapter One: My Life

I grunt as I pull on the plank of wood fixed onto the wall of the decrepit house. My eyes shut tight with effort, and I finally let go, wiping a sweaty hand across my face. I swing my arms from side to side in an attempt to loosen them, while I look around the interior of the house.

It is a good find. It's located in a remote area of the Empty Lands and is hidden behind the blackened remains of a burnt-up house. I almost missed it, but I happened to notice the chimney sticking up from behind the rubble. Luckily, every other roamer had missed it, and it's full of quality goods.

Rubbing my sore hands on my pants, I put my hands underneath the stubborn piece of wood on the wall and pull upwards. This time, I hear a creaking sound as some wood shavings fall to the floor, and the board detaches itself from the wall. I find myself holding a decent-sized solid plank of wood.

I carry the wood out to my wagon and place it on top of the growing stack. The demand for woods has gone up recently, so I 'm trying to stock up on it. First, I had stripped the shelves and cabinets in the house of anything useful. There was nothing great, just some cans of vegetables, though I found only three that were still edible, a few rolls of paper towels that might be worth something, and some silverware. The main value of the house was in the wood.

My hands still sore, I pick up my water canteen and take a long drink. The cold liquid fills my dry mouth and I gasp in relief. I swallow and, although I know my water is running low and there isn't a body of water near me, I can't resist pouring some on my hands. The soreness is somewhat alleviated as I rub my hands together. I decide to take a break from pulling up planks of wood and take out my shovel. Hopefully, the ground won't be too dry.

My eyes are locked onto the ground, looking for any sign of plants or roots. My heart jumps as I spy a small green patch a few feet from me. Letting my shovel fall to the ground, I kneel down in front of it and run my fingers through it. It is definitely some sort of vegetable. I dig into the soil a little and spy the top of a tiny potato, still growing. Excitedly, I jump up and grab my shovel. Finding any food that the ancients had planted that wasn't destroyed by the Disaster is an extreme rarity. Usually I only dig up some plant or root for medicine. I plunge my shovel into the soil and extract some dirt, which I deposit on the side. Thrice more I do this, until I can see the root from which the potato is attached. Then I kneel down again and pull the potato off the root. It's much too small to eat or sell to someone as food, so I stand up, brush some dirt off my clothes and walk over to my wagon. My knife is conveniently sticking out from the huge pile of supplies and goods. Rummaging around for a container, I find a small leather sack. Not ideal, but it will do. Positioning the potato over the sack, my knife swiftly cuts the potato into four quarters. The pieces fall into the sack, which I tie together tightly. Potato crop isn't exactly struggling, but most people will gladly trade for some more potato to plant.

I grab my shovel and walk back towards where I found the potato. Some quick, shallow digs reveal that no more potatoes have survived. I walk around the house, my eyes trained on the ground, but I see no other signs of plant life.

My arms are still sore, and my hands still raw, but I've no other use for this house other than the wood. Sighing, I walk back to my wagon and dig out a traveler's cake I've already cooked. My throat struggles to get the dry food down, but I take a swing from my canteen and it manages to force the cake into my stomach. Now there's no delaying any more. I sigh and crack my fingers together. My hands still sting from before, but they're much better. I move back into the house and survey what must still be done. To my relief, there is only one more usable board of wood. The others are almost unrecognizable: burnt up, twisted, and broken into splinters. _Let's get this over with_, I think. My well-trained hands (I have ten boards from this house only!) grope the bottom of the board, finding a strong hold. Then I pull upward as hard as I can. Luckily, this board is attached to the wall rather weakly, and I soon get the wood into my arms. Relieved, I stack it on my truck. I have finished stripping this house of anything valuable. True, I haven't looked under the beds and on top of the cabinets, but ten years of experience tell me not to bother.

My oxen give a start of surprise as I load the wood into the wagon. It balances precariously on top of the stack, so I take off four planks and make a new pile. I hope that it will last for the trip. Once, I had all the wood in one pile and when I stopped in a village to trade, the pile fell and the wood was all over the wagon. It didn't do too good for business.

The wood safely in my wagon (I triple-check to make sure), I climb onto the front and slap the oxen with my feet. They slowly begin to move. I sit back and think. The next village in my route is Sparks, a solid three hours. I'm not going to any more houses, for I'd looked at all of them on my journey towards the isolated house. And I doubt I'll see another roamer for at least an hour, when I'll get back on a main route. It's still late morning, so I'll get to Sparks at noon or early afternoon. That's a good trading time for wood. Right after morning work, people will be able to estimate how much wood they'll need. Unfortunately, that's not a good time for food trading. Whether it's psychological or not, I've noticed that people are less likely to buy food right after they've eaten.

I lean back in my seat and twist to check my food supply. It's rather low. I have just three more travelers' cakes, and a handful of berries. I'll need to trade for food before I reach Sparks. Absentmindedly, I reach for some berries and pop one in my mouth. If I don't chew, I can make them last quite a while.

The oxen's feet make choppy rhythm on the hard ground. It is the only sound I hear besides the wagon's wheels turning and occasionally the supplies moving around with the wagon. The sun beats down on my skin, making beads of sweat form on my face. I suck on the berry, drawing sweet juice from a tiny hole in its skin, which I let drip down my throat before swallowing. This does not help the heat much, but it distracts me somewhat.

After about half-an-hour of traveling, the ground beneath me changes from brown to green, covered with grass. I am leaning against the side of wagon and have just started my third berry when my eyes open and I see the change. I raise my head up. This means that water is closer. My canteen has been running dangerously low, so I am happy for a way to re-fill it. Scouting the land, I search for any sign of water, but all I can see is green grass stretching endlessly in all direction. I lash my whip at the oxen. They jump in surprise, but speed up. The sun beats down on me and my mouth is dry, so I reluctantly take a sip of my water. I swish it around, trying to make it last, hydrating all parts of my mouth. Finally I swallow, letting the water run down my parched throat. I put my canteen away, hearing the meager amount of water left splash emptily around, and vow not to drink until I find water.

This vow turns out to be unfulfilled. An hour later, I regretfully pick up my canteen again. I've been on a main route for thirty minutes, yet I haven't found a body of water or another roamer. I take a tiny sip of water and quickly set the canteen down. I hold this water in my mouth for a while and pick up the reins again. As the oxen's feet clatter on the ground beneath me, I keep my mouth shut and feel the water splash around in it with each step.

Ten minutes later, I swallow in relief. A gorgeous blue lake sits in front of me. And, even better, another roamer is busy filling his canteen, and I see his wagon. It's mostly empty, but I spot a few things I might be interested in.

The roamer looks up in surprise as my wagon draws closer. I pull back on the reins and the oxen stop.

"Hello," I greet him.

"Hi," the roamer returns.

I dismount. I mean to be civil and keep conversing, but thirst takes priority. I run to the lake and submerge my head. The cool water feels blissful on my faces. I open my mouth and take a long drink before I run out of air and come up gasping.

The roamer is watching me in amusement. "Been on the road long?"

I shake my head. "Just a few days. But I went out to one of the really remote houses," I gesture towards where I came from. "No water out there."

"Oh," he says. There is a long pause.

"So, where did you come from?" I ask to break the silence.

"Sparks," he replies, nodding his head to the right to the lake.

"That's where I'm heading," I say. "What's happening over there?"

"Things are okay there," answers the roamer. "They have a lot of food and lumber, and I just sold them some tools."

My hearts sinks. "Oh."

The roamer eyes me curiously, catching on to my disappointed tone. "You planning on selling lumber or tools?"

"Lumber," I answer dejectedly.

"I heard Pine Gap is struggling in that department," he says.

I frown. "I think I'll try Sparks first. Pine Gap's too far away.

The roamer shrugs. "Suit yourself."

"Thanks." The sun is directly over our heads now. "Do you want to trade?"

"I don't need anything right now," the roamer says. "You?"

"Just water," I take out my canteen and fill it.

The roamer chuckles. "That's always free." He stretches and yawns. I walk back to my wagon and take out some more canteens. Suddenly, the roamer asks, "Are you running low on food?"

"I thought you weren't interested in trading," I say in reply, walking towards the lake with an armful of canteens.

The roamer nods affirmatively. "Just wondering if you need anything."

"Well I don't," I say, somewhat irritated. I fill up one of my canteens. "I would've said so if I did." I finish my statement by shutting the top of canteen.

The roamer holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay." He grins.

I finish filling my canteens and load them into the wagon. "Goodbye," I say, and climb up onto my seat.

"Goodbye," he says.

I grip my reins and head off towards the village of Sparks.


	2. The Trade

Chapter Two: The Trade

A cluster of brown houses awaits me as I approach the village of Sparks. The town has grown some since I was last here, some three months ago. My wagon rolls into the town and I wave a hand to a familiar man with a beard.

"Hello, Ben," I call.f

"Hello," says Ben. He probably doesn't remember my name, with all the other roamers who come and go. I hop off my wagon.

"Good trading time?" I ask.

Ben frowns. "You know it's our custom to arrive one day before you want to trade and stay in the Pioneer Hotel."

"I got sidetracked," I lie. "I meant to get here yesterday. One of my oxen ran away." I've used this excuse before. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. "I have to get back on the road tonight." I hope I haven't made this excuse to Ben before.

Ben frowns deeper. "Hmm."

"So…" I continue. "Could you tell everyone that there will be trading now?"

Ben looks annoyed, but cups his hand around his mouth, making a pseudo-megaphone. "Attention all citizens of Sparks. A roamer has unexpectedly arrived and wishes to trade. Trading will commence in the plaza as soon as possible. Attention." The doors of some nearby houses open and people step curiously out into the street. "Trading will commence in the plaza as soon as possible." The people run off, spreading the word. "Come," Ben says to me. I board my wagon again and urge the oxen to follow Ben. He leads me through the village towards the plaza. People walk around me, holding bags of food and other goods with which to trade. When we reach the plaza, I halt my oxen in the middle of the semi-circle and hop off. The villagers are congregated all around me.

"Greeting all," I begin in a deep, booming voice. "I have been traveling to the remote, _very_ remote, houses in the Empty Lands. I have found houses visited by few roamers in the past. I have a lot to offer you." To begin with, I take out the sack with the potato pieces, open it up, and take out a piece. "Four pieces of a potato! Great for planting. Think of how many potatoes you can harvest from just four pieces. Any offers?"

"A potato!" A man jokes, holding up a small potato roughly the size of my four pieces. Everyone laughs.

"Two artichokes!" A woman ventures.

"Two carrots!"

"Three plums!"

No more offers come. The woman who offered the plums comes up. I hand her the sack of potatoes and she hands me the plums. "Pleasure doing business with you," I say, as I always do. The woman smiles and returns to her spot in the plaza. I hold up the next item. "Silverware! Two forks, a spoon, and three knives. Only slightly dented. Offer?"

There is a murmur of interest in the crowd. Silverware is fairly rare.

"Three pieces of cheese!"

"A loaf of bread!"

"Three bags of corn!"

Everyone immediately stops bidding. I am surprised, but obviously happy. Three bags is a lot to pay for silverware. "Sold!" I cry unnecessarily.

People start mumbling unhappily as the man walks up with three bags of corn. He hands them to me and I plunk them down in my wagon. I give him the silverware and he walks back to his spot, head down. "Pleasure doing business with you!" I call. I can hear people muttering phrases like "food waster" and "going to be the death of us all". To discourage this, I quickly hold up one roll of paper towels. "Three of them, I've got. What will you give me?"

"Three oranges!"

"A head of lettuce!"

"Jar of applesauce!"

"Sack of prunes!"

The bidding ceases, and I pointed to the man who offered the prunes. He came up with a sack (a lot smaller than I thought it would be), and I hand him the paper towels, saying "Pleasure doing business with you" instinctively,

"You too," he returns.

I scowl at his back for a split-second, and then return to my business tone. I reach into a bag and hold up a leafy herb. "A rare herb! Great for numbing pain and healing cuts. A whole bag full of them!"

Some people perk their heads up; always a good sign.

"Two jars of jam!'

"Three jars of pickles!"

"Three donuts!" a man shouts. Some people beside him laugh and say, "Come on, Ethan."

"A sack of asparagus!"

No more offers come. A woman with bushy, grey hair comes up with a decent-sized bag of asparagus. "Pleasure doing business with you," I say, and hand her the herbs. She smiles and walks back into the crowd.

"Okay, I'm almost out of goods," I say. "Are you in need of wood?"

Nobody speaks. I sigh and vow to go to Pine Gap next. "Well, I'm out. Thanks for trading today, and hopefully I'll see you again soon,"

People begin to disperse back into the village. As I am putting my things back into my wagon, I notice a dark-haired boy and a dark-haired girl close by, arguing.

"Come on Doon, just go up and show him," I hear the girl say.

"Okay, okay," the boy says. He takes a deep breath and steps forward. "Hello," he says to me.

"Hello," I say.

The boy shuffles his feet. "Um, I'm Doon Harrow, and she is Lina Mayfleet."

My eyes light up. The names sound familiar. "Oh, you're the ones who found the way out of the underground city! And found the diamonds?"

"Yes," Lina says.

"And did you want to show me something?" After I ask this, I realize I shouldn't have implied that I was listening to their conversation.

"Yes, he does," says Lina. "He's been working on a new diamond project and we've been waiting to give it to a roamer. Show him, Doon," she adds to the boy.

Doon hesitates, and then takes out a small, flat box. He opens it, and I gasp. It's filled with jewelry. Necklaces made of silver links. Golden bracelets. One bracelet of red stones. An obscenely large ring. And all of them have at least one shard of a deep blue diamond on them.

"Are those from _the_ diamonds?" I ask rhetorically.

Doon answers anyway. "Yes."

"We've been buying jewelry off of roamers," says Lina proudly. "And he puts the diamonds on."

"How?" I ask.

"Well, we hit two diamonds together in order to get shards," says Doon. "And then we use fire to meld them onto the jewelry. It took us a while to figure out how to get the shards to stay on, but we did eventually."

"And, this jewelry, what does it do?" I ask, picking up the bracelet. It has seven tiny shards of diamond on it, making it glitter every time I move it.

"Same thing a whole diamond does," replies Doon. "They don't hold their charge as long, since they're smaller, and you obviously can't put a light bulb on them…"

"Which is why we bought this," breaks in Lina, holding up a string with multicolored pieces of glass on it.

"What's that?" I inquire.

Lina shrugs. "We got in from a roamer. He said it came in box that said 'C-H-R-I-S-T-M-A-S lights' on it."

"This, is a _light_?" I ask, amazed.

"Well, many lights," says Lina. "Here." She picks up the ring and puts in on her finger. Then she unscrews a red piece of glass from the string and inserts in on the bottom of the ring. She flicks a switch near the diamond and a bright fiery red light emits from the bulb on the ring.

"Wow," I exhale, as Lina flips the ring upside down so the light in on top.

"Of course, it's not very practical if you want a lot of light," continues Doon. "But if you want to see in the dark corner of a house and can't fit a whole diamond in…"

"Or if you're carrying a lot of things and can't hold a diamond…" adds Lina.

"These are better."

"Plus, they make good engagement rings," giggles Lina.

Doon rolls his eyes at me. "Yeah. And the bracelet is even better."

Wordlessly, I hand over the bracelet. Lina unscrews seven lights from the string and Doon keeps talking. "And the best part is that they don't have to be in the sun that long. Since they're so small, they fully charge in one minute!"

"And this charge lasts…" I venture.

"Only half-an-hour," admits Doon. "But if you're wearing it, it'll constantly charge whenever it's off. So you're not likely to run out of light."

"Here." Lina holds up the completed bracelet. Seven tiny light bulbs protrude from the metal. She puts in on and flicks a switch. Multi-colored beams of light shoot out from her wrist in all directions. As Lina holds it up to her face, I can see different colors flash on her flesh. She rotates her wrist and the colors dance across her face so quickly that I get dizzy.

"We've been waiting for a roamer to come so we could spread the jewelry to other settlements," says Doon. "And you're the first one to come,"

"What do you want for them?" I ask eagerly.

"Um…" Doon hesitates. "Well, first of all, do you have any jewelry we could put a diamond shard on?"

I already know I don't, but in case I picked some up and somehow forgotten about it, I look thoroughly through my goods. No jewelry. I go through it thrice more to make sure none suddenly materialized. Finally, I stop looking and turn to Lina and Doon.

"Any luck?" asks Doon. I shake my head regretfully. "That's okay. Not many roamer have jewelry."

"I don't bother picking any up, usually," I say. "Not many people are interested, and I get almost nothing in return."

"What else do you have in there?" asks Doon.

"Just wood, really," I reply.

Lina and Doon look at each other. Finally, Doon says, "Okay, we'll sell you these cheaply if you promise to give them out to roamers along the way."

"And sell all the jewelry that you find to us," adds Lina.

"With a discount," finishes Doon.

"Of course," I say. "How many planks?"

"Um…three?" says Lina doubtfully, looking at Doon.

"Three," confirms Doon. I get three decent-sized planks and hand them over. He gives me the box. I examine the jewelry in awe.

"I'll try to pick up some more jewelry for you, but I can't promise anything," I say. "It's hard to find."

"We had some jewelry in Ember," says Lina sadly. "Not real jewelry, like up here, just something shiny. But nobody thought to bring any up."

"Ember, your underground city?" I ask.

Lina nods.

An idea forms in my head. It seems so outrageous, I feel reluctant voicing it. "Maybe, if you tell me where this underground city is, I can go down and look for some."

Doon laughs. "No way. It's a long, steep path into the earth that you have to walk on for about three hours, and it's pitch black inside. There's also a pit that we had to build a bridge over, but who knows if it's still there? Forget about it."

I persist. "But if you went down there…"

"And that's another thing," Doon goes on, ignoring my question. "When we went down there after getting the diamonds, there was still plenty left. Now, we've taken all the useful things."

"Like jewelry?" I ask slyly.

Lina knows exactly where I'm going. "It isn't worth it. The only jewelry we had in Ember was glass or stones on strings."

I'm disappointed, but I'm also stubborn. "But even if I found some, you could use it. And there are probably other valuable things down there."

"Not anymore," replies Lina. "When we found the diamonds, we took everything worthwhile down there."

"Maybe you missed some things," I suggest. "Like jewelry.'

Lina and Doon look at each other for a long time. "Okay," says Doon finally, shaking his head in exasperation. "Go north-east from here. It took us a full day walking, so I don't know how long that would take you with your oxen."

"About half a day, maybe a little more," I reply promptly. It's true; going by wagon is almost twice as fast as just walking.

"Right," says Doon. "So go north-east for half a day, if your estimate is accurate, until you see a large rock."

"Wait a minute," I interrupt. "Do you know how many large rocks are out in the Empty Lands?"

"I was getting to that," says Doon patiently. "Go north-east until you see a large rock. There should be a grove of trees there."

I am about to ask him if he knew how many groves are in the Empty Lands, but he cuts me off. "Go into the grove and look for a metal door. That's where the diamonds were. If you find that, then you know you're in the right spot."

"Okay," I say. "So how do I get into this underground city?"

Doon sighs and takes a big breath. Lina takes the hint and explains. "Go find a little dent in the earth."

"With stones around it," interjects Doon.

"Yes, with stones around it," says Lina. "Go into the dent and you'll find a small passage…."

"Is the passage big enough for my wagon?" I blurt out.

Lina smiles patiently. "No, it's much too narrow. Anyway, bring a diamond and some jewelry, because, like Doon said, it's pitch-black."

"So how did you see when you were living there?" I ask. I want as much information as possible, if I'm going to roam there.

"A generator, powered by a river. There are light bulbs on poles everywhere. I disconnected the generator, so they aren't lit up. Now can you stop asking questions?" Doon is annoyed now. "Let's go, Lina."

"And how far up…" I begin feebly, but Lina and Doon have already walked far away.

"A pleasure doing business with you!" I call.

Sometimes it's hard being a roamer.

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To anyone who caught it, yes, that was an Ethan Frome reference.


	3. A Trip

Chapter Three: A Trip

My supplies clatter and my oxen fidget as I climb into my wagon, holding the box of jewelry safely in my arms. I make sure it's closed securely, and put in on my lap. Then I raise my hand at Ben, who returns the gesture, and crack my whip at the oxen. They stumble forward, pulling my creaky wagon along. The wagon soon jumps around, as the ground turns rocky, indicating I'm moving away from the carefully kept roads of the town.

If Doon is to be believed, I should get to Ember by the evening at the very earliest. My stomach rumbles and I allow myself a plum. Usually, I keep to a strict eating schedule to conserve food, but I can't resist after a good trading session. I bite into the purple fruit. It's definitely harder than I thought it would be, and the juice doesn't exactly fill my mouth with sweetness, but it will have to do. You can't be too choosy if you want to a roamer.

I'm thinking about what I'm going to do once I reach Ember, when I suddenly realize there's something I should be doing. I sit up so suddenly that the rest of the plum falls to the ground. (Usually I try to save the pits for trading) The box is still on my lap. I open it and let out another audible gasp at the sight of the jewelry. They look even better now, with the sun directly over my head. The slightest movement of the box makes the light shine all around them. Doon said that they charge in one minute; I'm not worried about that. I find the string of colored oddly shaped lights and set to work. First, I unscrew the pieces of plastic attached to string. I pick up the first piece of jewelry, a necklace with a large chunk of diamond on the pendant, and find the slot for a light. I select a blue light, for no particular reason, and insert into the slot. Just to test it, I flick the switch. The necklace comes to life; a bright blue beam of light shoots out of my chest. My mouth drops open because I can see the light clearly in spite of the blue sky. I click the switch off and the beam of light dims for a split-second before going out. I take the light out and flip the pendant around to constantly charge it.

The next piece of jewelry I pick up to test is the bracelet of red stones. It looks odd with a sliver of diamond on each stone. The colors contrast each other interestingly in the sunlight. I examine the surface of the bracelet. On the underside of each stone is a tiny slot for a light, hardly visible. I put the blue light in one of the notches and find a switch on the side of one of the stones. I flick it, and the light shines again. It is not quite as bright as it was with the necklace. I'm no expert like Doon, but I'm guessing each light slot got its power only from its own stone. I unscrew more lights until the entire bracelet is filled with colored bulbs. My fingers fumble for the switch. I finally click it on, and let out another audible gasp. Light seems to flare directly out of my arm. I rotate my wrist and watch the colors swirl around. Even though I know that I should save the charge, I leave the lights shining. It's worth it just to see the colors flash.

The weather is extremely hot, and the sun beats down on me mercilessly. I reach for another plum, but catch myself and grab my canteen instead. I have already deviated from my three-meals-a-day schedule, and I can't afford to waste any more food. Water is usually replenishable for free; food isn't. I open the canteen and let some of the water trickle into mu mouth. Cool liquid relieves my parched throat. I swallow and continue making plans for Ember. That girl, Lina, said that the entrance was too small for my wagon, so I'll have to carry only the essentials. The jewelry, obviously. Some bags for carrying goods. My canteen and some emergency food. Doon said that Ember was pitch-black, and the jewelry won't help me that much in a huge underground city…

I halt my wagon and the oxen complain and snort. I dismount and walk around to the back of my wagon. My diamond rests atop a pile of assorted rags and clothes, wrapped in a pillowcase to protect it from breaking if my wagon stops or turns suddenly. I carefully withdraw the pillowcase and feel the weight of the diamond in my hands. I put my hands inside and take out the diamond, its surface as blue and shining as the afternoon sky. The sun reflects off the individual panels and I see my own reflection in the diamond, shattered across the fragmented surface. I caress its smooth face with my hand, and run my hot fingers over the creases. The sun reaches through my fingers and hits the diamond, making it sparkle. I close my eyes and, without any reason, continue stroking the diamond.

When I open my eyes, the sun is at its mid-afternoon position, and I can see a dot in the distance. Squinting, I make it out to be another wagon. This excites me, as I am incredibly bored, and the urge to take another plum has been growing inside of me. I wave my hands up over my head. The wagon comes closer in my direction, but I cannot tell whether he sees me. I continue waving my hands until the wagon is close enough so I can see the roamer in it, a skinny man with disproportionately large muscles on his arms. He halts his oxen beside me.

"Hello," I say, without bothering to dismount. The box of jewelry sits on my lap, and I consider trading some to this roamer. I decide against it, because I might need all of it in a huge underground city.

"Greetings," he replies. "Where are you headed?"

I open my mouth and almost say "Ember", but I catch myself. I don't want other roamers to come with me, and I also don't want him to think I'm crazy. "Oh, just that way," I say feebly, waving a hand towards the mountains. "Up north."

He's looking at me funnily. "I meant, to which settlement?"

"Just seeing if there are any old houses up there." My face burns. I sound like an amateur roamer. It's foolish to go to look for houses without going towards a settlement. Whatever food you get in return for the goods from the houses is almost always less than the food you use up going to and from the house.

"Right," the roamer says condescendingly. "I'm going to Pine Gap. I have a lot of lumber to sell."

My heart sinks. I should've gone to Pine Gap after Sparks. Oh well, too late now. "Sparks has enough lumber for now," I say, trying to redeem my credibility as a roamer. "I was just there." In retrospect, I wish I had said that Sparks needed lumber more than Pine Gap, just to annoy him. But that wasn't going to make my image any better among the other roamers.

"I see," he says. There is an awkward silence. Finally, he breaks it. "Do you want to trade?"

"No really," I reply. "I was just bored and wanted to chat,"

The roamer glares at me, and I can tell he wants to ask me what the point was in stopping him. Instead, however, he says, "Well, I have enough to keep me going for now. Should get going if I'm going to get to Pine Gap before sunset."

"Fine," I say. I tighten my grip on the reins to signal to him that I'm eager to leave.

"So, good-bye then?'

"Good-bye," I confirm through gritted teeth. The roamer shrugs and whips his oxen forward. I take a few deep breaths and urge my oxen on towards Ember.

It's a good thing that I only spent a few minutes chatting, because the sun is inching steadily downwards into the horizon. I will myself not to reach for another plum, and occupy the time reciting my plan over and over in my head. I will look for the rock, and then for the metal door in woods. I will bring down only the jewelry, my diamond, a couple canteens, some bags, and food. Thinking back to what Doon said, I decide to bring down some wood also, because he wasn't sure if the bridge was still there. I go over what I plan to look for, in addition to jewelry, in my head. This distracts me from the agony of boredom, and I am so occupied that I almost miss the rock that rises out of the horizon, with a grove of trees next to it.

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Reviews always appreciated, by the way. He's going into Ember in the next chapter.


	4. Underground Treasure Chest

I excitedly sit up, almost strangling my oxen as my hands jerk the reins backs. They stop suddenly and bleat, cursing me in their own tongue. I ignore them as I evaluate the landscape, recalling what Doon described. The rock is there, and the grove of trees is visible in the distance. I should head for the trees for awhile, until I get past the rock. Then I can evaluate where I need to go. I also happen to notice a stream alongside the rock. I give my canteen a shake and decide that it would be worth it to stop and refill. I have no idea how large this underground city will be, or how long I will be down there. Anyway, my legs are cramped from sitting in my wagon all afternoon, and I need to stretch them out.

I let go of the reins and dismount. My oxen look at me, annoyed, so I take one of their water pans with me to the stream. It is brutally hot, and the last thing I need is for one of my oxen to collapse. That has happened to me once, and it put me almost a full day behind schedule. I can't afford that now, not with my excitement over Ember. My cramped legs give a sigh of relief as they straighten out, moving across the ground towards the stream. The water reflects my face as I dip the pan into the river. The pan comes up with a layer of fresh clear liquid swimming across the bottom. I carefully walk the water back to my wagon, stopping whenever the liquid splashes dangerously high and starting again slowly when it calms down. Finally, I set it down in front of the oxen, who eagerly dip their heads into it. I wipe my hands across my sweaty forehead and grab my canteen. Draining the last drops as I walk, I venture back to the river. I see that the grove of trees is not too far ahead of the rock. Hopefully, I will be able to get into Ember, suck it dry of goods, and carry them up to the surf ace before sunset. Doon said that there was a long path going into the ground, but I have no idea how long it will take me to walk up and down it. Well, I wasn't going to get there any faster by sitting around thinking about it. I fill my canteen, and run back to the wagon.

The oxen look grateful as they finish lapping up the water. I say, "You're welcome" to them, as I always do, but they just look at me blandly. I chuckle half-heartedly, climb onto the wagon, and return to assessing the task before me. As the oxen trot along, I try to recall everything that Doon told me. He said that they had stripped the city clean the last time they went down into it. So why was I even bothering? Although I hate to admit it, I know why. Being a roamer has been growing steadily harder. There are only so many houses to search and with each passing year, more house are picked clean of goods. I have to jump on every chance I get, even if it don't think it will be profitable. Eventually, there will be nothing lef t of the ancient world to sell. My prediction is that roamers will become extinct in five or so years. I try not to think of that, though.

The rest of the trip passes uneventfully. I finally pass the rock, and lock my eyes on the grove of trees. Although I am positive that I am in the right place, I feel an irrational obligation to confirm what I already know. Luckily, I reach the grove in a relatively short amount of time. Leaves crunch under my feet as I dismount. The grove is thick, and I have to continually part the branches with my hands. I curse when a particularly large branch slips from my grip and whacks me in the face. The pain throbs, but I manage to move on until, to my amazement, a glint of silver meets my eye.

Until this moment, Ember has never felt quite real to me. I have planned for it this whole day, but somehow I have never really comprehended that I will be going into a city below the earth that I have probably driven across before. Now, seeing the metal door, and anomaly in the thick grove of trees, it hits me with a wave of reality. I am going into a city that is under my feet at this very moment. (I have no idea how long the radius of the city is, but I am guessing it reaches to under the grove. I automatically bend down and feel the dry ground, as if I can somehow sense the massive city beneath me. I even rap the dirt a few times with my fist, but I neither feel nor hear anything different that would suggest a city lying in a pit. But Doon and Lina claimed that they had lived here, and I believe them. I have to follow through with the plan now. Now that I am right on top of it…

Ten minutes later, I am searching through the landscape, letting no piece of land escape my prying eyes. The "dent in the earth" that Doon mentioned seems to be either non-existent or elusive. Since I believe Doon's instructions (haven't failed me yet), I believe the latter and continue searching. Quite often, my heart gives a leap when I see an indentation in the ground, but it is always either a burrow for some animal or a small hole. So when I see a promising dent for the seventh time. my heart gives only a small hop. But when I stick my hand down it, my stomach lurches. It goes quite far into the earth, and I think I feel a passage going off to the right. My hearts begins to beat faster. This is it. This is the entrance to the underground world.

When my heart begins to calm down, I concentrate on remembering all the instructions Lina and Doon gave me. They said that the passage is too small of my wagon (obviously), so I have to be careful as to what I bring down. I wander back to my wagon, grab a few canteens, and attach them to strategically placed straps and buckles around my body. It's awkward, but I still have almost all of my mobility. Next, I extract all the empty crates I can find. I need them for two reasons; to carry goods and also to stack together in order to reach the light bulbs on top of the poles. As a last second inspiration, I spy a frayed woolen sweater. Although neither Lina nor Doon mentioned this, I suddenly realize that a city cut off from the sun would be freezing. I wish I had a thicker sweater, or even a thin coat.

At last, I am prepared. I tie the sweater firmly around my waist, and find a saggy, half-filled bag of dried fruit and nuts mixed together to hold me. If I am starving, I can eat whatever I find down in Ember. (I realize I'm being a horrible roamer at the moment; never assume you will find enough food to sustain you during a search. That's the number one roamer rule; never assume anything.) I tether my oxen to a rock and finally lug my supplies over to the dent and lower myself into the earth.

It looks insane from the start. The passage I felt is incredible narrow. I look down sadly at my carefully-planned supplies. The fact that I asked if I could fit my wagon into the city is laughable. _I _can barely fit in with my supplies, let alone a wagon full of clutter. Then I remember that Lina, Doon, and a lot of other people from Sparks managed to enter and exit with enough supplies to let them take all the goods that they found. I will manage.

I strip off most of my canteens, just to test the passage out. My diamond lights up, illuminating the sides of the claustrophobic tunnel. I shiver and move on. Soon, the tunnel ends and I am standing on a rocky surface. I raise my light.

My knees go weak. A few feet from my feet is a huge drop. My light is great, but it can't pierce the thick coat of darkness that covers whatever is lying in the pit. I panic and run back through the tunnel. When I spot light through a hole above my head, I quickly pull myself up to the surface of the earth. The sudden flash of sun blinds me temporarily. I squint, grab the box of jewelry, and escape back down into the world of darkness. Working under the light of a single diamond, I screw lights in every slot and put the accessories on all parts of my body. At the end, I have three bracelets on each hands, a necklace, a ring on my right hand, and an anklet that I somehow missed before. Luckily, I had left the box open and it happened to have been exposed to the sun, and therefore was charging. I turn it on and admire it, rotating my ankle as best as I could. It looks useful for seeing under furniture without having to bend down. My entire body seems to glow, spreading light around the dark passage. I am ready.

The first task is to find the path down to the city. I hold my breath, as though even breathing could make me topple off into the abyss below, and move my feet, inch by inch, around the perimeter of the pit. Often, my heart stops when I accidently kick some dirt and pebbles into the darkness. Each time this happens, I have to stop and take a few deep breaths before I can start up again. It takes only a few more steps before my light reflects upon a steep path that extends down into the pit. For some reason, instead of being relieved that I have found what I've been looking for, my heart sinks. Lina and Doon weren't lying about how hard it is to get into Ember. I have to walk up and down that path who knows how many times while carrying supplies and goods. It's insane to think about it. But I can't even think about going back. The treasure below seems to call to me. I take a deep breath and run back to the surface.

It takes me a good ten minutes to bring the canteens, crates, and other supplies down. I also bring a sleeping bag and some crackers if I have to stay overnight. (I shudder at the thought of sleeping underground, but I have to do what I have to do.) The next part is trickier. I put the canteens back on me and practice walking. Good. I'm reasonably stable. I take my first step down the path. My heart thumps wildly and my stomach drops when I lay my foot down. The path is much steeper than I thought. I am stuck awkwardly in mid-stride; one foot extended far beyond the other. I pant, panicking. Then I pull myself together, take a deep breath, and bring my rear foot to my fore one. There. I am going to go down the path. All the way. I have it figured out.

This works out quite well. Although the path is uneven, and there are many moments when I stop suddenly to prevent me from tumbling below, I make steady progress. After a few hours, I make it to level ground. My heart slows down, and I realize my mouth is actually numb from dryness. With shaking hands, I open a canteen. The water soothes my parched mouth and throat. I gasp with relief and lick my lips with my newly-moisturized tongue. After this, I can't help sneaking myself a nut, for I have been sweating from the walk (despite the cold), and need salt.

Now I am shaking with excitement. I am almost there. I am level with the city I have been thinking about. I pray that the bridge that the people of Sparks built is still there, so I won't have to go back up and get planks of wood to build a bridge. The pit around the city is clearly visible in the light of my diamond, but after the nerve-wracking trip down the cliff, I feel no fear at all.

To my delight, I see (a few feet around the pit) that the bridge is still laying across the chasm. Sagging and rotten, yes, but still there. I lock my eyes ahead and, without pausing, speed across into the city.

"Wow," I breathe out loud.

From the small area that my diamond and jewelry reveal, I am stunned. How many times have I driven over this massive city, oblivious to the world living beneath my feet?

I am standing on a paved road, and two buildings are fixed on either side of me. Holding my light up, I walk forward, showing more roads branching off into a complex web of paths. I notice a pole sticking out of the ground, and raise my diamond. The pole extends into the pitch-black sky, shading whatever is on top of it from my eyes. Doon's words come back to me: "There were light bulbs on poles everywhere".

_There were light bulbs on poles everywhere_.

For a second, I stand still. After a full day of planning and traveling, I am here. And, so far, the dreams of goods hidden in this city have not been crushed. Unless I am mistaken, I have already found one light bulb. Now, it is time to get to work.

For many, many hours, I trek up and down the steep trail from the city to the surface. Each time, I bring down more supplies I need. I bring the crates down in two trips, some more food (My bag of nuts and fruit has been becoming mysteriously lighter with every trip), and even more canteens. When I come up to the surface of the earth for the final time, it is dark and I am exhausted. I climb into my wagon, find my sleeping bag and a flat surface, and slowly drift off to sleep, like a light bulb dimming before going out.

***

The next day comes, fresh of hope and opportunity the second I open my eyes. I bounce up on my feet, and grab a handful of prunes for breakfast. Through my many years of roaming, my body has adjusted to working on low food intake. I still have my bag of nuts and fruit for when I'm in Ember, so I should be all right.

Though I have already brought down all the supplies I think I will need, I look around me for a last-minute check. I spy an extra crate stuck in the back of my wagon and bring it out. It might be considered overkill, but the last thing I want is for me to run out of storage for goods while I'm in the city. I trudge back to the familiar dent in the hill and lower myself once more into the earth.

I guess that I am more tired than I think I am, for I realize that I have left the box of jewelry in my wagon. I sigh dejectedly and reach my hands up out of the dent, concentrate, and hoist myself up in one fluid motion. The box is on the ground, apparently having fallen out of the wagon. I pick it up, brush some dirt off of it, and go back into the earth. I quickly reassemble the jewelry that I took off when I went to sleep, and turn them on, transforming myself once again into a living light. I decide to leave the box up here, so I won't have to carry it down, and turn off all the jewelry to save fuel. The single diamond is sufficient to light the way down. This time, it takes me but approximately an hour and a half to go down the path and across the bridge. I almost have the pat h memorized, all the dips and twists, having walked up and down it so many times.

At last I am ready. The supplies are all in front of me, ready for use. I sneak a nut into my mouth to replenish the salt I lost from sweating and get to work. First, I lug all the crates to the pole with the previously unreachable light bulb. My first stupid move is trying to stack the crates like a staircase. I realize why this is a bad idea when the towers topples over. Shaking my head at my own idiocy, I resolve to build a pyramid instead. This works out quite well. The steps alongside the pyramid are wide enough to climb up, and the pyramid is stable. I open the box of jewelry and extract a necklace and two bracelets. That should be enough. I switch them on and turn my full diamond off. I take a deep breath and climb the first step. Good. I slowly progress up the pyramid, stopping after each step. When I reach the top, I see that there is indeed a light bulb on it. Very carefully, I unscrew the bulb from the pole. My stomach drops suddenly, but luckily I manage to secure my grip on it before it falls. Carefully, I make my way down the crates, clutching the light bulb. I reach the ground while caressing the smooth glass in my hand. At last, this whole trip is beginning to pay off…

For the next few hours, I move from pole to pole, collecting light bulbs. Although a few have either fallen off or are broken, I manage to get a decent number of them. I often stop to peek into houses, but usually I can only get a few pans or some wood. In one house, however, I find spools of yarn covering the floor. I grin, looking at the colorful strings as though they were streamers celebrating my trip. I also find a heavy door in the city which, when I open it, leads to a hallway. I put the crate I'm carrying down, wipe my forehead, and proceed down the passage. It leads to a large room with benches and lockers. To my dismay, the lockers are empty, and the wood is damp and warped. I walk half heartedly around the room, finding only a lone, rusty wrench, until I come to another door. I open it to reveal a steep staircase in a damp room. The sound of rushing water pounds into my head until I shut the door. Of course. The underground river in the Pipeworks. I better save that for last.

As I work my way through the city, I find myself singing the old song under my breath:

_In the city, look under the earth_

_There, the treasure lies in wait_

_A treasure beyond hopes and dreams_

_A treasure found merely by fate_

That's the version I heard somewhere in the east a couple of years ago. Now, with a sudden jolt, I realize. I have looked under the earth. I have found a city with treasure beyond hopes and dreams. And I was fated to be the first roamer to arrive in Sparks after Doon and Lina invented the diamond jewelry. Sure, rationally I realize that plenty of other people have "made" the poem "work" for them (How many roamers haven't found something in a city?), but I like to think that I am fulfilling the song. It keeps me energized.

Now, the city has been stripped of goods. A modest pile now stands in the central square. (Not quite as tall as I had hoped, but still decent enough) I must now travel to the place I have been dreading: the Pipeworks. That damp, musty place with the terrible river pounding in my brain. I shudder at the prospect. I decide to use all the light I can, and set to work attaching every single piece of jewelry to various parts of my body. When I turn them on, I can see well around the square. I am ready.

The musty smell meets my nostrils again as the door opens. I quickly skate through the room and find the door to the staircase. The sound of rushing water fills my ears again and my breathing grows heavy as soon as I open the door. I have to pause and shake the fear out of me before continuing. The staircase is wet, and I have to hold both the diamond and a crate with the wrench in it. It is nerve-wracking, especially since the noise of the river grows louder with every passing moment. The stairs are slippery, and I have to pause every so often to catch my breath and regain my balance. I can feel my lights dimming as time passes, but there is no way that I am going to switch any of them off. As I finally reach the bottom, the light on my necklace goes out. I quickly turn off all the jewelry. I have to save them for the trip back up. There is another huge door in front of me, with faded, peeling letters which, when deciphered, read: MAIN TUNNEL. I shake off all my fear and open the heavy door.

The sound of the rushing water, which already has made me agitated, suddenly meets my ears, louder and clearer, as if someone had taken a muffler off of it. I instinctively clap my hands over my ears and stare in wonder at the river which had once powered the entire city.

An endless flow of black water shoots by me, thundering intimidatingly as it crashes along the sides, spraying the banks with moisture. The river stretched far, far beyond where my meager light illuminates. I give an involuntary shudder of fear and move to the wall, far away from the threatening river, until I bump into something metal. Rubbing my shoulder, I turn around. There is a metal pipe protruding from the wall, with screws clearly visible. I grin. This miserable trip has not been a waste after all. I open the crate and withdraw the wrench. The quicker I move, the quicker I can leave here. No water should be flowing through the pipes, now that the generator has stopped, but I still unscrew the pipe cautiously. When the last screw pops out, I immediately jump out of the way, but fortunately no water comes spurting out. Apparently, I was right about the generator.

The pipe is satisfactorily big, in both length and width, and looks useful for pumping water from the rivers above ground. That has always been a big problem: having to lug buckets of water from rivers to your settlement. Hopefully, if I collect enough pipes from here, at least one settlement can hook together a decent pipeline and use that to get water. They'll probably give me a lot in exchange for that…

The Pipeworks proves to be, by far, the most profitable part of the city. As I venture onwards, I am increasingly amazed at how complex and well thought out the whole setup is. A whole network of tunnels and pipes branch out, supposedly to provide water to every section of the city. I stick the main tunnel, for fear of getting lost. Also, my crate has a finite amount of space. I wish I had brought down more, but that would be hard to carry down the treacherous path. I can always bring down more later.

When my crate is about three quarters full, the lights on my diamond and jewelry dim. I panic and weight my options. I can't go back up to the surface without light, so I can't wait here. I can always come down here later when my lights are charged, and the only way to charge them is to go up to the surface.

I turn to the stairs, but pause, turn back, and pick up the crate. I can't let it get wet from the spray of the river. Without hesitating, I dash up the stairs, desperation overriding my fear of slipping. I get to the locker room (my light already dimmer), and rush to the door.

When I arrive back at the city, I dump the crate along with my other goods. And, although I am in a rush, I look with pride at the stack of items in the square. "Thank you," I whisper to nobody in particular. "Thank you."

Then I begin the long trip back up to the surface of the earth.

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Wow, long time to update. I was at camp for a month, and this chapter was particularly difficult to write.

I know the story is boring so far, but next chapter will pick up. The bandit's coming!


	5. The Bandit

Chapter 5: The Bandit

When I finally get out of the dark hole that has been suppressing me for the past day, clutching only the box of jewelry (I packed everything neatly away), a canteen, and a crate of light bulbs, I see, in the darkness, every roamer's worst fear; another man going through my wagon.

My legs go weak. I've had no experience with bandit and quite hoped I never would have any. Now, however, was too late to hope.

"Hey," I call feebly. The man jumps and drops whatever he's holding. He turns fearfully to face me, and I get my first view of a bandit.

He looks terrible. His head has strands of straggly black hair that reaches his waste. His teeth are rotten, and he is so thin, every rib on his body is visible. The skin that isn't covered with rags is caked with dirt. But the worst part is his eyes; dark brown irises filled with two pupils, full of pain and insanity, probably stemming from his near starvation. He is also carrying a silver knife, glinting in the moonlight.

I instinctively throw my hands up, dropping the jewelry and light bulbs, even though there is no way that knife can reach me. The fear that courses through me is a reflection of the bandit's face, a child caught with his hands in the cookie jar. To hide his fear, he brandishes his knife and I cringe and drop my gaze to the ground. I can't stand to look at his eyes any longer.

The bandit opens his mouth and a hoarse growl emerges. "What's in the box?"

"Jewelry," I answer.

"Jewelry?" He growls in surprise.

"Jewelry," I confirm. I am surprised at how strong my voice is.

The bandit gestures at the box with his knife. "Get it." His breathing is heavy.

I slowly drop my hands. He doesn't react, but continues clutching his knife. I bend down and pick up the box. He watches intently, his blade reflecting what little light there is left in the day. I straighten up and hold out the box in a shaking arm.

"Open it," he orders. I fumble with clasp and undo it with trembling fingers. I take a deep breath and open the box, revealing the beautiful jewelry inside. The bandit squints in a futile attempt to see the contents of the box. "Come closer!"

I hesitate, unwilling to go within reach of the knife. He stabs the air impatiently, and I reluctantly walk towards him. Peering into the box, he asks, "Where did you get this?"

"Traded for it," I say. "In S-stonefield." There is no rational reason for me to lie to him, but I have a bad feeling about telling this man anything true.

The bandit shrugs and tucks the box into one of his bags. "How about the crate?"

"Light bulbs," I reply. Without waiting for the bandit's instructions, I back away slowly, keeping my eye on the knife. When my feet stumble on the crate, I bend down open it.

I have to choke back a gasp. Only two light bulbs remain, lying on the bottom the crate in the middle of a mound of shards of glass. I can feel the bandit watching me and stand up. "I guess they broke," I say feebly.

"Show me," The bandit growls.

I walk slowly towards him, frightened of what he might do to me when he sees the broken bulbs. His tortured eyes take in the mess of glass at the bottom of the crate. "What happened?"

"Dropped it," I say. _Moron! Didn't you just see me drop the crate? Because of you? _I don't dare say that out loud, though.

"Shame," he mutters. Somehow, I don't think that this is sympathizing with me. He turns around casually and walks back towards his wagon. I am surprised at this cavalier behavior and actually consider running for my wagon and getting as far away from this bandit as possible. Luckily, I don't, because just then the bandit finishes putting the crate and box into his wagon and turns back towards me. "Any news?" He growls, approaching me with his knife pointing in my direction.

"Sparks needs wood," I blurt out. "Stonefield doesn't." I'm surprised that I can lie even when I'm scared. "Um, er…" My mind goes blank. "Um…" He stabs the air impatiently. "Um, I saw a few wolves around recently." The bandit looks at me as if he knows that I am lying (which I am), but says nothing. "That's all that I've heard or seen…" My voice trails off and I know it sounds pretty pathetic

The bandit shrugs, walks over to his wagon, and is off. Just like that. No good-byes, no threats, no acknowledgement of any kind. He just goes off, his two oxen pulling his wagon of rotten wood along. I feel strangely emotionless. No anger, no fear, no worry. Just shock. Shock at what has happened, and at how quickly it passed. And, oddly, through my shock, I feel completely rational. My first instinct is to check out how much supplies I have left, but I decide against that. For one thing, even if I found out I didn't have enough food, what was I going to do about it? I have eaten enough nuts and fruit to last me, and I still feel a few on the bottom of my sack. For another thing, my top priority is to get help from a civilization, and I have to get moving as fast as possible. My first instinct is Sparks. I was there last, two people know about the jewelry, and a lot of them are familiar with the area around Ember. Without hesitating another minute, I jump on my wagon and am off.

As the oxen begin to pick up momentum, I realize I am sweating, although it is night out. It is only then that I realize I am still wearing the sweater that I was wearing in the cold city. (Despite my shock, hunger, and desperation, I smile at the fact that a city named "Ember" is freezing). Quickly, I pull the sweater over my head with some difficulty, as it sticks to my sweating body. I am beginning to feel light-headed, probably due to the lack of salt in my body, so I quickly grope around my sack extract one of the few remaining nuts on the bottom. I pop it into my mouth and slowly suck on it, feeling the salt enter into my body. I develop a pattern; suck for exactly three seconds, relax and swallow the salt, and then suck again. I continue to do this even when the salt is all gone. It keeps me from thinking and worrying about my stolen supplies and goods, and about how long it will take me to get to Sparks.

_One, two, three, swallow._

_One, two, three, swallow._

I can hear the wheels turning against the ground vaguely beneath me. My eyes close and I lean back against my seat, slowly losing consciousness. The landscapes fades and I am pulled into a wonderful state of being, where I feel no pain, no hunger, and no fatigue.

I do not know whether I fell asleep or merely remained in a sedated state between sleep and consciousness, but when I open my eyes, I feel refreshed for three seconds. Then it all comes back to me: the hollowness in my stomach, the panic in my body, and my head feeling increasingly lighter. Quickly, I stuff a few nuts into my mouth. This helps slightly, and I am able to concentrate on my goal. The shadow of my wagon stretches long and disfigured, so it is probably early morning. I have somehow gotten back onto the main route; perhaps my oxen have gotten the Empty Lands that they can instinctively navigate themselves to certain areas, or perhaps it was mere chance. Anyway, it is impossible to tell how much longer it is to get to Sparks, due to the lack of landmarks. I do notice, however, that my oxen are pulling my wagon along much faster than usual. I realize that my wagon is much lighter now that it has been raided. (That's one good result of this fiasco, I think dryly). It occurs to me that this is a good time to check what I have left in my wagon. I turn around in my seat as best I can and peer into the frighteningly empty storage space. All that's left are a few planks of wood (I guess the bandit didn't see any use for them), and some rotten apples that must have always evaded my hands whenever I reached in to get something to eat. I look sadly at them, two brown, soggy balls that would have once held me over for this trip. Now, however, not even the famished bandit wants them. Sighing, I pick them up and, with great regret, fling them out into the Empty Lands. One by one, they hit the ground with a satisfying sound, causing a cloud of dust to fly up, and settle slowly back down, covering each apple with dirt. I sit back with a sigh and close my eyes. The hot sun is almost unbearable now, and I am extremely light-headed. There is nothing more to do except wait.

I don't know how long I stay like that, but when I open my eyes, I can see the blurry outline of a wagon. I almost weep with relief. I raise a famished hand as far as I can make it go and wave feebly. The wagon, obviously belonging to an extremely successful roamer due to the amount of oxen it has. It stops briefly and turns in my direction. I manage a weak smile as it moves closer to me. Luckily, the wagon can move quite quickly and soon pulls up next to me.

The woman in the wagon is not fat, for even successful roamers cannot eat on a regular, healthy basis, but has large muscles all over her body. Her eyes widen when she sees me. Am I really that desperate looking? Do I look as bad the bandit did? I push these thoughts away.

"Please, help me," I beg, and wince. My throat is painfully dry and my voice is hoarse. (Once again, I think of the bandit, and realize that my voice is as raspy as his was.)

"What happened?" she asks.

"Bandit," I rasp, and let out a painful cough.

"Bandit?" Her eyebrows fly upwards in shock. "Where?"

I'm too tired to raise my hand and point. I just jerk my head backwards.

"How long is it to Sparks from here?" I ask, breathing heavily.

"Um…" The roamer turns around in her seat as if to look for Sparks, but I have the feeling that she is just stalling. "It would take me about ten minutes, but…" She turns back around and looks pitifully at my wagon and oxen. "I don't know…"

"Fine," I say, somewhat more harshly than I intend. She flinches and I turn red from shame. "Please," I plead. "Can you spare me just some food? Not a lot, just enough to get me to Sparks…"

The roamer shakes her head regretfully. "I'm sorry. I'm low on food. I need it to get out to Stonefield."

I'm too tired and light-headed to argue. "Fine." My demeanor turns cold.

"Sorry," the roamer says. She gives me an apologetic look. I actually can tell that she is being sincere.

"Okay," I say roughly. "Look out for the bandit. He has a small, poor-looking wagon."

The woman smiles drily. "That describes most of them."

Ouch. That hurt. She probably didn't mean to sound so superior and insulting, but it came out that way. I glare at her, and she has the sense to nod goodbye. I bob my head weakly and she is off.

"Stupid woman," I murmur to myself. I lay my head on my arms, feeling even more exhausted and starving. I seem to perceive the world around me as if I am in a bubble. The sounds of my oxen clip-clopping, of the wind, and of the grass crunching beneath my feet are muffled. I don't know how long I stay like that, but when I come into focus again the comforting sight of the village of Sparks awaits me.


	6. The Search

Chapter 6: the Search

I stumble through the village like a mad-man, soaked in my own sweat. People stop and stare at me. A girl drops a jar, which smashes on the ground, sending small black beans scattering in all directions. I ignore her and the rest of the village as I desperately try to find help. I spy the town hall and veer almost drunkenly towards it. I must look terrible, because the few people who aren't stationary and gaping at me are shrinking from my presence. I see parents herding their children into houses, and teenagers leading their younger siblings away from me. The town hall looks impossibly far away, and sounds echo dully inside my hollow head. I have to stop and lean on something momentarily, or I'll collapse. I put my hand out and lean on the closest thing I can find. Unfortunately, the closest thing happens to be a young girl's shoulder. She shrieks and tries to run away. I don't have the strength to clutch on to her. I sink slowly to the ground as she escapes into a nearby house.

Now they're angry. Men and woman curse at me, while children wail. A pair of strong woman takes both my arms and hoists me up. It's torture to keep upright in my starvation status. I hang limply and wait.

People begin to talk among themselves, giving confused orders. "Someone get Ben." "Tell Mary." "Go to the town hall." "Bring him somewhere." "Where's Doctor Hester?"

"Let's take him to Doctor Hester's," one of the women said. "He can barely stand."

_Thank you_, I say internally. My head is buzzing loudly and the voices around me fading. As they drag my uncooperative body away, the blurry visions around me turn to black as I pass out.

When I wake up, I see a circle of faces illuminated by diamonds. I am on a cot, and a half-full bowl of stew in beside me. I hear someone exclaim "He's awake!" and another woman with a brisk voice say "Everyone out of the way. I need to examine him." A tall woman with short grey hair, whom I assume to be Doctor Hester, parts the crowd and kneels down next to me. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes," I mumble.

"Are you feeling better?" There is a slight hint of condescension in her voice, which annoys me greatly, but I am in no place to complain.

"Yes." Surprisingly, I do feel better. I can lift my head off the cot slightly with feeling nauseous.

"We managed to feed you a bit. You kept drifting in and out of consciousness," says the doctor.

"Oh," is all I can say. "Thank you." My face burns. It came out sounding all wrong. It sounded like I was taking them for granted. "Thank you so much." That sounded better.

The doctor offers a canned "You're welcome", with no change in facial muscles.

My head starts to hurt, so I put it back down on the pillow and accept a spoon of stew from the doctor.

There is a commotion outside, and suddenly a wiry man with a grey beard comes barging into the room. I startle and knock the stew onto the floor. Several people cry out and move away from the stream of sauce and vegetables. Ben steps right through the stew, splashing the brown liquid on nearby villagers. He grabs my shirt and pulls me up. "What happened to you?" he demands.

"Ben!" exclaimed the doctor. "He has to lie down."

Ben ignores her. "What happened to you?" he repeats.

"Bandit," I croak out.

Ben frowns. "A bandit?"

"Over by that underground city."

Ben's eyebrows fly upwards. "The underground city? You went back there? To Ember?"

I nod vigorously. "I came," My hand comes up automatically to point to northeastwards. Ben spins to face the wall that my finger is pointing to, as if he can see Ember from here. "From there." Maybe it's because I'm delirious, but I can't help making my story as melodramatic as possible. "And when I came up…" And now I can't resist putting my head back on my pillow and forcing Ben to lean in closer. "The bandit was there." There. It is perverse, but I feel incredibly satisfied at the look of horror on Ben's face. I peer beyond him and see the same look reflected on most of the villagers.

Ben pulls me up. "What did he look like? What did his wagon look like?"

"Ben!" cries the doctor again. "He can't sit up yet!"

This time a young woman with dirty blond hair puts her hand on Ben's arm, and

he lets go. I sink back into my pillows.

"So?" asks Ben impatiently. "Who was it?"

"Long hair," I choke out. "Dirty. Rotten teeth. Thin. He only had two oxen and

his wagon is small and brown." At that point, all my muscles give up and I lie completely inert, my limbs scattered about the bed.

Ben straightens up and gives the doctor a significant look. Just then, the door

opens again and two more people come running in. Young people. A boy and a girl. I recognize them immediately.

"No." The doctor put her foot down. "Get out. He needs to rest."

"But Dr. Hester," the girl protests.

"Lina?" I croak out.

Everyone in the room turns and looks and looks at me with surprise.

"I knew, I told you, Doon!" cries Lina. "It's him! The same roamer."

Doon steps forward. His hair hangs down in front of his eyes. I struggle, pull myself up, and rest on my elbow. We both stare at each other, looking for recognition.

Lina speaks. "What happened to you? Did you go down to Ember?"

I nod. "There was a bandit. I came back up, and there was a bandit. He robbed me."

Doon's eyes sharpen. "Where was the bandit?"

"Just outside the entrance," I say. "He was going through my wagon. He was

holding a knife, and he had long hair. He stole your jewelry" At this point, my muscles give in and I collapse back onto the bed.

Lina and Doon turn to Ben. "We have to find him."

"What?' Ben exclaims. "He has nothing to do with us. He could be anywhere in the Empty Lands!"

"He has things we may need," says Lina. "He stole from this roamer who went down to Ember."

"We already got everything from Ember." Ben reminded her. "Right when we got the diamonds, remember?"

Now I speak. "You didn't get everything. I got the light-bulbs from the lamps. I got some pipes from the Pipeworks and some other things."

Ben frowns. "How much did you get?"

"It doesn't matter!" Lina breaks in. "He went down to Ember because we told him to and now we have to help him."

"Exactly," says Doon. "Anyway, even a little will help us."

Mary, whom I hadn't noticed before, gently touches Ben's arm. He jerks backwards in surprise. "There's a bandit out there. He's just as much a danger to us as anyone else."

Ben frowns again, and I suspect that he is just stalling and waiting for someone else to speak. Apparently the rest of the villagers are used to this habit, for they remain silent. When he realizes that nobody else will speak for him, he clears his throat. "Well, as an attempt to ensure the…safety of our people, I suggest a rescue team be deployed to in search of this, um, threat to our stability." Ben nods authoritatively. The villagers all clap, but I see Mary rolling her eyes behind him.

Just then, Wilmer comes running in. "I heard something about a roamer…" he begins, but stops suddenly when he sees me.

"A bandit attacked him," says Mary simply. "We are planning to search for him." Wilmer's eyes grow wide as Mary raised her huge arms to the crowd. "Anyone who wishes to join the search team, please raise your hand."

At first, there is no response. Then a large man in the back of the crown slowly raises his hand. Mary nods approvingly. Several other people follow his lead and volunteer.

"Good," says Mary. "I will see that a wagon is prepared."

"Thank you," I say. My voice is stronger, but still raspy. "Thank you. I am very grateful."

Mary gives a nod and a small smile in my direction. Then she returns to her authoritative self. "Wilmer, go prepare a wagon. Everyone who is not planning to join the search, please leave the doctor's house. Everyone else, step up so we can discuss our plans."

There is a brief moment of confusion before people begin to trickle out. The remaining people move closer to the bed. Mary lowers her voice to a whisper. "You said that the roamer had only a few oxen?"

I nod. "He was poor. Looked like he hadn't eaten much."

"We will send five oxen," declares Mary.

"But he could be anywhere,' protests Ben. "There's the entire Empty Lands to search!"

"No," I say. "He was at Ember last night. He could have only gone so far with just a few oxen."

"But you came all the way here in the same circumstances," points out Ben.

"Not quite," I say. "He probably had a heaver wagon, because he stole so much from me. And he didn't have as many oxen."

Ben frowns, looking cornered. Finally he relents. "I will go down to the storehouse and prepare some food. Hopefully this search will not take too long."

"Not at all," I say. "You can move much more quickly than he can."

Ben nods briefly and walks out of the doctor's house. The doctor spreads her arms out and pushes the crowd back. "Please, he needs to rest. You have asked him what you need to know. Go to the town hall if you want to discuss your plans."

Mary says, very formally, "I thank you for your time," before walking briskly out of the house, leading the rest of the people with her. The doctor places a cool cloth to my forehead and smiles encouragingly. I accept a teaspoon of herbs from her.

"I'm sure they will find him soon," She reassures me. "Just try to rest."

I manage to give a small smile before the herbs pull me under.

When I wake up, I feel much better. The doctor is sitting in at the table, looking through a book. I open my mouth. "Have…"

The doctor jumps so violently, I flinch. She settles down and turns to me, breathing heavily from the shock. "Sorry," I say. My throat is still dry, so I take a sip of water from a stone cup the doctor left beside my bed.

She shakes her head. "No matter. No, they haven't returned yet, but you have only been asleep a few hours."

"When will they come back?" I ask.

The doctor shrugs. "Who know? Maybe another hour. Depends on how long it takes."

I nod gratefully, and suddenly feel restless. I swing my feet over the edge of the bed and very carefully stand up. The doctor puts her hand on the crook of my arm, but I do not need it. I feel like I've almost completely recovered, but I still need to hold onto the wall in order to walk at first.

"Do you want to lie back down for a while?" asks the doctor nervously, clutching onto my arm more tightly."

"No," I say. "I'm feeling sort of restless. Is there anything I can do here? Just talk to some of the villagers?"

The doctor stiffens, and I can tell she feels slightly offended. "Actually, another roamer is here. He came while you were resting. Given the… circumstances, we asked e him if he could do his trading today and leave. With so many people gone, we cannot lodge him for the night."

I look down at the floor. Although her tone is not accusatory, I know that it is entirely my fault for coming to Sparks with a demand for them to leave.

Either the doctor does not sense my moral predicament or she does not want to acknowledge it, because she continues. "The roamer is in the plaza now, trading, if you want to go watch,"

I nod. It would be good to get moving in the sun anyway. The doctor helps me walk halfway to door before I assure her that I can move independently. She backs off, but continues watching my movement through the door and out into the village. The first ray of sunlight blinds me and I stumble backwards into the side of the doctor's house. The doctor puts a steady hand behind my back, and I manage to pull myself up again. She refuses to put her hand down, and guides me to the plaza, where I see a male roamer offering his wares to the villagers. He has an ancient hat on, the kind with a brim on the front to protect from the sun and a nonsensical word across the top. When I sit down, he is offering a box of light-bulbs. There is a murmur of interest amongst the villagers. Light-bulbs are becoming increasingly rarer. I mutter darkly, thinking about my crate on the back of the bandit's wagon somewhere in the Empty Lands. They would find it soon. They _had_ to.

The roamer continues his trading. I watch with my eyes, but my mind is elsewhere. I think of the bandit, of the underground city, and of Sparks. I think of jewelry, of Doon, and of how exhausted I am. Slowly, I lift myself out of the old chair. Immediately, the doctor rushes to my side. I allow her to do this, although I resent it, and walk slowly out of the plaza. However, right before I am about to leave, the roamer holds up a box. I squint at it, and, with a horror, recognize it. Ignoring how faint I feel, I leap up, and run forward, pointing, just as the roamer opens the box to reveal a set of beautiful jewelry.

"It's him! It's the bandit!" I cry, before fainting into a heap on the ground.


End file.
